Trapped
by The Most Terrible Writer
Summary: When Bella is being abused by Charlie, she believes she is only a punching bag for him. But when she meets Edward Cullen, everything changes, both for her, and for him. All Human. BellaEdward. Rated T for mild abuse. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

**Hey, guys!!!! Miss me!! I know you did, 'cause I'm just. That. Amazing. Naw, I'm just kidding. But anyway, I know what I said about 'only Evernight stories, but... surprise! Actually, I just found this one layin' around inside my computer, so I thought (in my incredibly smart mind), _Why not give them a treat?_ So, here it is: a Twilight story.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**-Untruthful :)**

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Chapter 1

My world is everything I was hoping it wouldn't be. It's the pain and suffering I didn't want to have. It's the loneliness and emptiness I didn't want to feel. And once that was evident, I was already trapped.

It all started when I was 14. My mother, Renee, had been single, and was making little money off of her waitress job. She couldn't afford to take care of me, so she shipped me off to my dad's until she could support both of us financially.

When I arrived at my dad's, it started off pretty smooth. He never hovered. He wasn't overprotective. He was as normal a father as anyone else's father.

Until that one fight.

Charlie walked into my bedroom to say goodnight one night when I was 15, only to find Mike (my, unknown to him, boyfriend) and I under sheets. We'd fallen asleep after reading a chapter or two of Wuthering Heights. I should've known to shoo Mike away before we got any sleepier.

Charlie had stated clearly everyday that he never wanted me near Mike at all. He isn't exactly a rule follower, and he's always been causing problems for Charlie and his coworkers. But when I met him at Forks High School for the first time, I went head over heels. I loved every thing about him, which Is what happens when teens experience love.

But, anyway, I didn't listen to Charlie. We hung out secretly after school or whenever we could find excuses to be together. He finally admitted that he liked me and asked me to be his girlfriend. I accepted and we were the gossip at school for what seemed like forever. I was ecstatic. I was practically in love with him.

Mike was very rough sometimes, though. I'm still surprised to this day that he didn't abuse me out of anger. But he was pressuring me to have sex with him almost everyday. I told him consistently that I loved him a lot, but we would have to wait until we got married (assuming that was a likely possibility).

I knew I was betraying Charlie, but I couldn't help myself. At the time, Mike was my life, and I couldn't imagine leaving him.

The night he found out, was the first night he hit me.

Flashback:

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" Charlie shouted, awaking Mike and I from our slumber.

"Dad! What's wrong?!" I yelled back in fright.

"Bella, I've told you time and time again, I don't want HIM anywhere near you. Yet, you go and break my rules anyway. You didn't even JUST disobey me. You had sex with him, didn't you?" he replied screaming.

"Maybe I should go" Mike suggested. He then grabbed his book bag swiftly and squeezed his way through my dad and my door frame. I heard the front door open and slam shut, and was disappointed that he wouldn't try and defend me and him because I thought we were both in love with each other.

_Oh, crap. I think Dad, _really _thinks I had did it with him now!_

"Dad, I didn't have sex with him!! We were just reading for a school project! Please believe me!" I begged.

"Bella, how can you be so stupid and gullible? He's not in love with you, he just wants you for sex" Charlie said softly, as if he had given up on me. "No," he told himself. "I will NOT be affected by your idiocy!". He screamed as if it were to convince himself. "I will _not_ be the father of a slutty whore! You'll learn the right things to do, whether you like it or not! Now strip!". He sounded regretful, like he didn't want to do this.

No, I thought. My own father can't be forcing himself on me. He _can't_ be raping me.

"No, dad, please! Don't do this to me!" I sobbed, my plea echoing through our house.

"Did you hear me, you slut? Strip!" he commanded with more anger than regret. He was becoming a monster in less than a minute.

I slowly slid off my baggy tank top and my sweat pants. All that was covering my body was my bra and a thong (which, I'm sure, didn't help convince him that I was still a virgin).

"Strip _all_ the way down" he seethed. All of his regret had vanished. He was happy to exploit and hurt me, just because he wanted it. It was no longer for me to learn right and wrong. I was his property now, and he could do whatever he wanted.

I silently sobbed, letting salty tears stain my vulnerable body, while unbuckling my bra and slipping off my underwear. I covered my breasts with my arms, embarrased and frightened in front of my father. Charlie's eyes glided over my body, ogling it with amazement etched into his face. I was disgusted with this new father I had, gawking at me like I was a hooker on the streets.

He pulled his eyes away, finally, and commanded me to lay on the bed. I was appalled. Was he really going to do this to me?

"No!" I yelled, filled with weak confidence.

"What did you say?" he breathed, giving me a chance to recoil.

I loosened up and told him off. "Did I stutter?".

Right then, I knew I had made a mistake. His face reddened with pure madness and I all I knew I had to do was run.

But before my mind could process, he slapped me. Right across the cheek, and hard, too. I instinctively raised my hand to my cheek and winced. He had SLAPPED me.

I did as he commanded the first time and lay on the bed. He smiled an evil smile. He began to unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop. He was standing there in his boxers, grinning.

"NO!! Dad, please don't do this!!! Please, stop!!!" I pleaded.

"Shut up, bitch. I don't want to have to bring out a knife. Do you?" he replied, glaring at me.

I screamed. How could this be happening?

Suddenly, he walked over to my left side and swung his fist into stomach. It didn't help for his plan of shutting me up, because I squealed. Next thing I knew, he was on top of me, raising his fist to strike me in my face. Then everything went black.

I can't run anymore, I told myself. He lured me in and now I'm trapped.

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**Dun, dun.... DUN!!!!!! Oh, no! Bella abused and no one to turn to?! Edward to the rescue!!!!! Hehe!**

**Seriously, though: Whaddya think? Good? Bad? Terrible? So awesome beyond belief that I deserve a Nobel Prize? Nah, just playin'. But pleaseeeeeeeeeeee review. I need an incentive! Motivation! Encouragement! Determinant! Inspiration! I'm basically just typing in synonyms for 'incentive' off of . :)**

**R&R!!!! Please!!!!!!!**

**-Untruthful :)**


	2. Continued Prologue

**Don't really have much to say except: 1) PLEASE REVIEW!!!! and 2) Here's chapter 2!!! :).**

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Chapter 2

**Flashback (continued from Chapter 1):**

RING! RING!

My alarm clock's shrill buzzer roused me from my sleep. I slammed down the snooze button and pressed another button that turned it off permanently, all the while, surges of pain shot through my arm.

_What did he do to me last night? Other than rape me_.

I brought my arm up for inspection to discover a large bruise about 4 inches long covering my lower arm. I sighed and forced myself to sit up. I stumbled into the bathroom to wash off the tears and blood from the previous night. I ran the bath water made it as warm as it could get. I lowered myself slowly into the water, wincing as my cuts stung.

I scrubbed every inch of my body, but the filth of what he had done- of what I had LET him do, it stayed.

**End of Flashback**

And then so began a year long torture. He would beat me daily, usually after work. While he would hurt me, he would tell me I'm worthless. That I'm a whore. That I'm a slutty bitch that would never amount to anything. That I would never be wanted by anyone but him.

At first I screamed every time, but gradually, I learned to hold them in. Keep it bottled up. Screaming only made him angrier, and he would punch and kick me harder.

And then in the morning, I would wash the physical evidence off. But no matter how long or how hard I washed myself, the dirtiness of that very first night never seemed to go away. After my morning bath, I would break out the heavy makeup to cover my bruises and cuts from the night before, and in no time, I would be ready for school, and mostly have no one suspicious of anything out of the ordinary.

But I wasn't really all that worried about anybody finding out at school. I was pretty much isolated from the social circle at Forks High School. After that first night, Mike tried to talk to me at school, find out what happened, but I broke up with him in the lunchroom, two days after, the incident. He got really mad and wouldn't even look my way. Luckily, that's exactly what I wanted. I knew to keep this quiet, I couldn't come in contact with anyone. They might notice make-up starting to wear off, or something like that. Friends would notice little things like that, and I wouldn't ever risk letting it slip that I was abused by my dad. I knew that would be the last mistake I ever made.

And maybe, if things had stayed the same, I might have been living in abuse until I was 18 and have to endure 2 more long years of it. That was how I planned to to do it - wait it out till college.

But then Edward Cullen enrolled in Forks High School.

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**So, ya. Pretty much the same speech as at the end of chappy #1. But I'd also like to thank the few of you that do review most all of my stories. You guys are the reason I continued my writing. Now, please teach a lesson to all my other readers, and tell them: I don't write unless you do :).**

**Love ya all!**

**-Untruthful :)**


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